


Treacherous

by annacarol123



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drunk Felicity, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annacarol123/pseuds/annacarol123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you know everyone at Verdant thinks we’re sleeping together? Apparently every single person in Starling City does.” She tells him. “I didn’t know that.” “Yeah, well, they do.” She says with a smile. She grabs the bottle from the table and takes a sip from it. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to get things when everyone thinks you’re Oliver Queen’s girlfriend.”<br/>In which Felicity is very drunk and Oliver is very attentive.<br/>[ON HIATUS]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I wrote this ages ago, and I was going through some files and found it, so why not post it? Happens some time after Barry Allen comes to Starling City and before everything goes to hell with the whole Slade thing. It's light and fun, something I honestly need with everthing that's going on in the show. So, yeah, I hope you enjoy.  
> Also, it's 3 am and I just gave it a once over before posting, so if there are any mistakes, that's why (:

She swallowed the blue colored drink and she felt the familiar burning sensation as it went down her throat. Not that familiar, actually. She wasn’t exactly a stranger to alcohol, but she wasn’t a friend to it either. But since she had already lost count of how many drinks she had taken this exact night, she considered it quite, quite familiar.

She had made it her night’s mission to try at least one of each drink on Verdant’s alcohol menu. She knew that at some point she would start ordering repeated ones, but whatever. She wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

When Felicity left her home for work this morning, none of this had been in her plans. She would go to Queen Consolidated, then head to the Foundry for a little Arrow work, though they weren’t expecting much trouble. Maybe she’d order chinese. Oliver and Diggle really like chinese. Or maybe she could go home early and marathon Game Of Thrones. Tomorrow is saturday, which meant no day job. She could marathon her favorite show all night long without getting worried about waking up early, like the big nerd that she is. But no, she ended up here, at Verdant, getting drunker than she’d been in a while. Probably since college. Of course it was stupid to think that her week could at least get a little better.

Barry was still sleeping. She should really start getting used to calling it a coma. That’s what it is, a coma, and calling it any other way wouldn’t change her friend’s condition. It was just hard to believe that the so full of life Barry Allen could be laying unconscious for weeks now.

She ordered another drink, and drank it at one go.

Obviously, that was only one of the low points of her week. Isabel Rochev – the she-devil in the form of a successful business woman, with killer legs and a mean smirk that could make anyone go off the deep end – had been a big part of making her week hell. Since Felicity caught the woman doing the walk of shame in Russia, working with her had been excessively unpleasant. Not that it hadn’t been before that. Isabel was a constantly a bitch to Oliver, making the already hard job of running his family’s company even more difficult, but until Russia, Felicity never had that kind of attitude directed towards herself.

This week, though, it felt like Isabel wouldn’t leave Oliver’s side for anything in the world. She was pretty sure they had attended about four hundred meetings together and, of course, she couldn’t let a single opportunity to make Felicity’s life hell go. There was the oh, so present smirk that she had to wear every time they crossed paths and, obviously, very mean comments – apparently, all of them had the implication that Oliver had found someone better and didn’t need his secretary in short skirts anymore. Felicity had to bite her tongue not to answer with something as insulting as what the other woman was insinuating. Just the possibility that everyone else at QC probably shared Isabel’s opinion on her involvement with Oliver makes her want to crawl back behind her desk at the IT department and never leave. What were those people thinking anyway? Like Oliver would ever even think about her in that way.

She ordered another drink.

And, of course, when she thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. It shouldn’t have, but _it did_ , and she hated that she let herself feel that way.

Lance had called earlier that night. Apparently, Laurel needed a file that was stored somewhere she didn’t have access to. Felicity didn’t even know what case she was working on, since as soon as Oliver hung up the phone, he was getting dressed and walking out the door. Over comms, she let him know what kind of security he was up against and, honestly, he could be in and out in a blink of an eye, so he sent her and Digg home half an hour after she got there.

That’s how she ended up here. Oliver dropped everything for Laurel in a blink of an eye. _Again_.

She’s not jealous. She’s not! Nope, not even a bit.

She’s not drunk either. There’s two of everyone because it’s Bring Your Twin day. That’s it.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She picks it up and looks at the called ID. _Oliver Queen_.

She considers ignoring it, but the very small part of her brain that's remains sober makes her take the call. He was out on a mission, something could have gone terribly wrong. She shivers at the mere thought of something happening to Oliver. He speaks as soon as she puts her phone to her ear, not even giving her time to say a quick hello.

“I need you to track Laurel’s phone.”

“Why would I trash Laurel’s home?” Felicity asks, pressing her hand over the ear not occupied by the phone, doing a poor job at silencing the loud, upbeat music of the club.

“What?” He asks, and she senses a little surprise in his tone.

“What?” She asks as well, still not being able to comprehend a word he’s saying. “Hold on.” She finally manages to get away from the noise as she walks out of the club and into the Arrow cave.

“Where were you? I couldn’t hear a thing.” He says while she walks down the big set of stairs, instead of repeating what he requested of her moments earlier. At least it wasn’t urgent, which meant his safety isn’t at stake.

Her heel suddenly gets caught in one of the step and she loses her balance. She drops her phone, but manages to catch the handrail in time to prevent a total catastrophe. _Damn her drunkenness!_ Her ankle hurts, but not enough for it to be a sprain. She hopes so, at least, because she’s already clumsy enough in her own two feet, imagine adding clutches to the equation...

She climbs down the rest of the steps and gets her phone from the ground. The glass screen is shattered but it still works, she realizes as Oliver’s concerned voice comes through the speakers.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

God! He has a lot of questions for someone who has no particular fondness for answering them.

“I’m fine,” she says and her voice sounds irritated.

“Stupid, stupid phone.” She mumbles through clenched teeth when she realized little pieces of glass have fallen from the screen and landed in her hair.

Oliver seems to ignore her comment, or maybe he just realizes he had something he needed to talk to her about.

“Can you track Laurel’s phone?” He requests again.

“Did you switch from vigilante to super creepy ex boyfriend mode?” She asks, already walking towards her computers and getting to work. She had to focus really hard for a moment due to the double image forming before her eyes. Thankfully, even when drunk, her fingers know a keyboard like the palm of her hand.

Oliver sighed, clearly not appreciating the joke. “I came to her house to give her the file, but she’s not here.”

“Can’t you leave it on the table or something? Or do you need to kneel before her and kiss her feet before you hand it to her?”

Sober Felicity rambles a lot. She does. And her brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t always work, usually letting embarrassing information slip. But, _oh!_ , drunk Felicity just takes honesty to an entire different level.

Drunk Felicity isn’t always this grumpy, though, but really, who can blame her for being a grumpy drunk while drinking all by herself? Well, she sure as hell needed to lighten up her mood. The whole point of getting drunk this night was to make her shitty week better. So what she fell for the _last_ person she should have? So what he was a danger to her heart - and apparently, her liver? Being grumpy won’t help her.

Oliver chooses not to answer her, and silence fills the line for a few moments before Felicity gets a location on Laurel. “She’s at Detective Lance’s place.” She tells him. “No need to rescue the damsel this time.” The alcohol speaks for her again. Laurel is in no way a damsel in distress, and she knows that. The woman kicks some serious ass, she knows how to handle herself. Her problem is that she messes with some pretty dangerous people, much like Oliver. One more reason why they’re perfect for each other. Felicity cursed herself for not bringing a drink with her to the lair.

Oliver obviously notices something’s wrong. He always thought Felicity liked Laurel. Well, as much as she could without actually knowing the other woman. At least he thought she didn’t disliked her, but this hostility was definitely out of character for his blond friend. Felicity was always her bubbly, happy, nice self towards everyone – except, maybe, Isabel Rochev, but honestly, the woman was a monster, she deserved it. So it came as a surprise to hear her talk like that.

“Are you home?” He asked her, wanting to go and check on her before calling it a night.

“Nooope,” she answered, unnecessarily stretching out the ‘o’. “I’m right where you left me.”

“You’re at the Foundry?” He was surprised. “What are you still doing there?”

“Well, I am tracking your beloved gorgeous Laurel, like you told me to.” He could hear the annoyance in her voice. “Hey, do you have any alcohol down here?” She changed the subject, surprising Oliver again. “Tequila would be nice, but I guess anything with 40 percent of alcohol will do just fine.”

Okay, he was seriously worried about her now. “No, I don’t.” He said, changing his course to the Foundry, instead of her building.

“You are lying!” She exclaimed through a set of giggles.

“You’re a bad liar, even on the phone!” She told him, and a few more giggles followed. “Seriously, where do you keep it? I can’t find it.”

“Are you drunk already?” He asks, but doesn’t expect her to reply.

“Seriously, there are not a lot of hiding places down here, where is it?”

“I am not telling you. I’m on my way back,” he paused, feeling weird about this entire thing. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll take you home as soon as I get there.” He didn’t give her time to complain before ending the call.

Other than the occasional glass of wine, Felicity never drank this much, or at all. He wondered how much had she had. Maybe she didn’t have that much, he really couldn’t tell. He also didn’t know her limit. If he had to guess, he’d say she’s a lightweight, but he learnt not to underestimate Felicity Smoak a long, long time ago. The girl was something else.

About twenty minutes later, Oliver parked his bike by the back entrance of the club and quickly typed the code in the security lock before letting himself in. Loud music was coming through Felicity’s computer’s speakers. A tune he didn’t recognize, and he made a quick mental note to pay more attention to her music taste when he had a chance to – he didn’t know anything about it; or about most of her personal life for that matter. He made a mental note about that as well. _What a stupid thought. Oliver! Why would you want to know what kind of music Felicity likes?_

He spotted Felicity twirling and dancing with a vodka bottle in her hands over on the training mats. She was singing along to whatever song was playing, with her hair falling over her shoulders, instead of being held in the usual ponytail. She looked… breathtaking. And Oliver tried really hard to repress the thoughts that started to cloud his head.

It was not news that the woman before him was incredibly beautiful, in all sense of the world. Oliver also had to deal with his attraction towards her in more than one occasion, but really, he was a man and, even though he knew nothing would ever happen between them, it would do no harm to look. Only things had escalated. He didn’t mean for them to, but when he realized it, Felicity was practically walking in on him and Isabel Rochev after one of the stupidest things he’s ever done and all he could think about was “how in the name of hell is she going to forgive me for this?”, only she had nothing to forgive him for. They weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t even _remotely_ together, and yet, he felt like he owned her an explanation. From then on, things were just close to getting out of hand. Specially after that Barry kid came to his city to steal his girl from him. _Stop it! She’s not yours!_

Oliver realized he was staring, and quickly cleared his throat to make his presence know. She didn’t acknowledge him, so he went over to her computers and lowered her music to a minimum, making her turn around.

“Hey!” She greeted him happily.

“Hey back.” He answered, walking over to her on the mats. “Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing to the bottle and taking it out of her hands.

“Did you know everyone at Verdant thinks we’re sleeping together?” Her question takes him by surprise, and he realizes it’s a pattern for the night. “Apparently every single person in Starling City does.” She adds. At first he thinks that’s why she’s been acting strange tonight, but the light expression on her face tells him it really is the alcohol.

“I didn’t know that.” He says, setting the vodka on the table and grabbing one of his water bottles.

“Yeah, well, they do.” She says with a smile. She grabs the bottle from the table and takes a sip from it. “You’d be surprise how easy it is to get things when everyone thinks you’re Oliver Queen’s girlfriend.” She adds, pointing to the bottle in her hands. “I think the bartender’s in trouble, though. Oh! And so are you. Thea was pretty mad that you didn’t tell her about our relationship.” Oliver chokes on his water, but she barely notices. “Not that there’s anything to tell, right? She just thinks there is. Anyway, she said something about being glad that you managed to find someone who’s smart and hot, which is quite flattering, considering your sister could be a model! The hot part that’s flattering, I mean, I already know I’m a genius.”

“Okay, little genius,” he says, after a quick moment of recomposing himself. “You’ve had enough.” He adds, taking the bottle from her again. “I’m taking you home. Now.”

“Since when you’re the fun police? I thought Oliver Queen was supposed to be the life of the party.” She said, poking his chest and doing this awkward dance thing that he supposes it’s her way of talking him into dancing with her. He can’t help but allow an amused smile to crawl it’s way to his lips.

“Well, you’re late to that party. Like, six years late.”

“Then let’s throw another party! Hey, do you dance? I can’t, for the life of me, imagine you dancing.” Her sentence end in more giggles, and he can practically see the mental image of him dancing forming in her mind.

“No, I don’t dance.” He answers spotting another one of his smiles. Drunk Felicity is entirely too random for him not to.

“You should, you know, dance. They say men who know how to dance are much better in bed.” This comes so casually out of her mouth Oliver has to try very hard to keep himself from chuckling. It’s funny to see Felicity make one of her usual slips without blushing or looking like she wants to crawl in hole and stay there for the rest of her life. “Not that you need any improvements on that department, I’m sure you already are amazing.”

“I am going to change really quickly and then I’m going to take you home. You can thank me tomorrow.” He ignores her comment concerning his talents on the bedroom and turns his back on her, walking towards the bathroom in the back of the lair to get out of his vigilante persona and back to Oliver Queen.

When Oliver comes back out – dressed in comfortable jeans, a white v-neck and a brown leather jacket – Felicity is nowhere to be seen. He quickly checks for her purse and finds her keys there. Her heels are still kicked to the side and the vodka bottle is still on the table, thankfully. Without her keys and shoes, the only place for her to be is upstairs, in the club. Oliver sighs before climbing up the stairs, two steps at a time. Did she really talk to Thea about them being together? He certainly didn’t need to add that to his list of problems. Explaining that to his family – or really, _anyone_ – definitely wasn’t on his plans when he gave her the Executive Assistant position.

He made a quick scan of the place when he got upstairs, but the club was so crowded, he could see no sign of her. “Damn it, Felicity, where are you?” He mumbled under his breath while making his way through the crowd.

“Looking for your pretty little girlfriend, Ollie?” He heard someone say from behind him.

“She is not my girlfriend, but yes. Have you seen her?” He asked his sister.

“That’s not what she told the guy at the bar.” Thea said, crossing her arms over her chest, while a smirk never left her lips.

“That’s just because she wanted the alcohol. Now, where is she?” Thea pointed upstairs with her eyes and walked away, shaking her head. Looking up, he could see a mess of blond hair dancing next to the DJ.

Oliver quickly made his way upstairs and and spotted her as she danced with the DJ. The guy had his hands on her hips and it made Oliver want to drive an arrow through the guy’s palms. Oliver pulled the guy away from Felicity with a hand on his shoulder. Not strong enough to hurt him, unfortunately, but firmly enough for him to take a hint. He stepped away from Felicity, but the girl ignored his absence.

“Did you know you look really hot in leather? Green, brown, whatever, it suits you.” She continued dancing, and Oliver stood awkwardly close to her. “Not that other materials don’t do you justice, they do, trust me, but you in leather is just…”

“Can we go now?” He interrupted her before she could get too sidetracked, something she would definitely be thankful for tomorrow. She shook her head while biting her lower lip and Oliver decided that it was really distracting. Trying his best not to look at her bright pink lips, he continued. “Or do I have to carry you out?”

“Carry me!” She told him, giggling because of the idea.

“I will do it.” He said with a smirk. Does this count as flirting? He hoped not, because even though she was drunk, he kind of liked it.

“Do it then.” She dared him, and without giving her a second to prepare, Oliver had grabbed her and lifted her up in his arms – one arm on her back and the other under her knees. A surprised “eep” scaped Felicity before she started laughing. Smiling himself, Oliver made his way through the crowd whose attention was now mostly directed to the notorious bachelor and, supposedly, his latest conquest.

Oliver ignored the knowing looks of strangers and made his way out of the club as fast as he could. Felicity had wrapped her arms around his neck to secure herself in his arms, and rested her head on his chest. “Your chest so firm.” She said, looking up at him and pulling her left hand away from his neck to poke him there. “So are your arms, oh my God, are they, like, bigger somehow? Have you been doing the salmon ladder thing when I’m not in the lair? I swear to God, if I find out you’ve been working out in my absence I will make your life very hard, Oliver Queen.” She told him. A moment passed before she broke out in another giggle fit. “Hard, do you get it?” She said, poking his rock hard chest and laughing some more.

The cold breeze hit them as they stepped out of Verdant and he watched as goosebumps appeared on the skin of Felicity’s arms and legs. Not that he was staring at her legs, he just kind of… nevermind.

He walked quicker, getting to his parked car across the street. He shifted her weight to his left arm, leaving his right hand free to open the door, then he helped her in.

“You do realize you just lifted me up with one arm like I was a dog or something.” She said as he rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat. “Not that you treat me like a dog, I like the way you treat me. Well, sometimes you’re too glare-y for my taste but you mostly treat me very nicely. But, oh yeah, you kind of lifted me up like you lift a dog. Your arms are insane, did I already say that? Well, they are.”

“Felicity!” He wanted to stop her rambles, knowing she would be insanely mad at him for letting her put her foot in her mouth tomorrow, but he couldn’t help but chuckle. This woman was too much. “Any particular reason why you’re overly interested in the state of my body tonight?” He played along, supposing a little teasing would do no harm. Truth is, Oliver was secretly enjoying all of this, but he couldn’t let himself think like that, or, at least, admit to himself that it was even crossing his mind.

“Oh, I’m always interested in your body, trust me,” she said, leaning closer to him to whisper in his ear. “But I’m too much of a wuss to do anything about it.”

Oliver skipped a beat before answering. _She’s drunk_ , he reminded himself, _she didn’t mean to say that_. “I hate to break it to you,” she returned to her initial position in her seat and Oliver reached behind her to put her seatbelt on. “But hangover Felicity will be very upset with you tomorrow. So let’s get you home before we give her a reason to be upset with me too.” He smiled at her and started the car.

Oliver drove in silence, and somewhere along the way Felicity fell asleep. Her apartment wasn’t far, so he drove as slowly as he could, not looking forward to waking her up when they got there.

Sadly, it had to happen. “Felicity,” he called her name softly.

“I’m sleeping, ask Diggle.” She answered in a sweet, sleepy voice and snuggled away from his reach.

Deciding it wasn’t actually necessary to wake her up, Oliver lifted her in the same way he had in Verdant and carried her inside her building. The doorman barely notice that Oliver was walking in with a sleeping Felicity in his arms and he made a mental note to talk to someone about that.

He managed to get to her front door without waking her up, but upon arriving, he realized he didn’t have a key.

“There’s a spare one under the mat.” She told him, opening her eyes.

“Were you pretending to be asleep this whole time?” He asked, setting her down and getting the spare key.

“Your arms are comfy,” she shrugged. He mock-glared at her with a raised eyebrow and she giggled. He unlocked her door and pushed it open. Felicity walked inside and threw herself on her couch while Oliver stood awkwardly by her door, taking the time to look around her place.

 _How have I never been in here before?_ They’ve been friends, partners, for over a year now, why did he suddenly feel like he knew nothing about her? _That’s because you don’t, idiot, you never bothered to ask._ He desperately needs to change that.

Tomorrow he’ll ask, he makes a mental promise to himself, when he stops by to make sure she’s okay, maybe even share a few hangover cures him and Tommy mastered in their partying days years back.

“You have thinky face. Why do you have thinky face? Are you thinking about why the world’s spinning so quick?” She asks, without giving him time to answer, not that he would’ve. “Yeah, me too.”

“No,” he chuckles, forcing the memory of Tommy to the back of his mind again. He didn’t realize thinking about his best friend, even a happy thought, made him so serious. “I’m thinking it’s time to go to bed.”

He steps inside her apartment and closes the door. When his look lands on her again, her eyes are already closing and she mumbles sleepily something that sounds remarkably like “only if you come too.”

He ignores her comment as usual, but not before a very vivid image of going to bed with Felicity comes to his mind. He shakes it off, picking her up again and taking her to where he supposes is her room. She doesn’t show any signs of being awake and he thinks she’s actually fallen asleep. Pushing the door open with his feet, he walks into her room, without stopping to actually look at it since the lights were off and he honestly didn’t want to wake her up. He set her down on the bed and tucked her in, figuring her dress must be comfortable enough to sleep in. Her shoes are already off, obviously, and he makes a mental note to stop by Verdant to grab them and her purse before heading back to her place to check on her.

Felicity releases a happy sigh, and he supposes she’s having a good dream. Giving himself just another moment to really look at her and the peaceful look on her face, he bends down, presses his lips to her forehead and whisperes, “good night, angel,” before heading out.


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, what's going on?" Thea asks him when she comes down the stairs and sees her brother up and ready to leave the house.

"Good morning to you too, Speedy."

"I don't have time for that right now." She waves his greeting off with a swift hand motion. "Where's the emergency?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do! It's saturday morning and you're already up. You're never up before me, and that's a good thing, actually, since you usually don't come home until the wee hours of the morning." He opens his mouth to say something, but he waves him off again. "Don't even try to deny it, I've seen you trying to sneak in at least a gazillion times already."

He doesn't answer her, grabbing his wallet and keys instead, kissing her head and heading to the door.

"Hey! You didn't answer me," she chuckles at his evasiveness, as if that alone was the answer she was looking for. "You're going to see her, aren't you?"

"Who?" He asks, even though it's pointless.

"The blond hurricane from last night." Thea answers with a smirk.

"She has a name, you know."

"Oh, I know!" She grins at him, having entirely too much fun grilling him. "Felicity Smoak. She's gorgeous, by the way." She states, as if he didn't know that already. "Smart too. Too smart for you, actually. How did you land that one?"

"I didn't. Can we not talk about this? I have to be somewhere." Oliver tells her, frustrated with his sisters antics.

"Great, me too. I'm meeting Roy at the club to help with the inventory in," she checks her watch, "exactly 23 minutes. You can give me a ride while you tell me everything about her."

Oliver rolls his eyes, knowing that there's no arguing with his sister when she puts something in her head.

He only speaks when they're already in the car, and he can see Thea itching to ask more questions. "We're not dating."

"That's not what she told th-"

"The bartender, I know, we discussed this already." Oliver interrupts her, but there's no annoyance in his tone, surprisingly for Thea.

"I know, silly, I'm just messing with you." She gives him a smile, and he can't help but smile back at her. "What I really want to know is why aren't you? Together, I mean."

"It's… complicated." Oliver answers somewhat stiffly. He can't exactly tell his sister all the reasons why being with Felicity isn't a good idea. He decides to go with a version of the truth. "We're… not exactly at the same place in our lives right now. Getting together would do us more harm than good."

"That sounds like bullshit." She tells him honestly.

"Thea." He warns her to drop it just by the tone of his voice, but Thea ignores it.

"No, it does sound like bullshit." She reaffirms. "Roy and I couldn't be at more different places in our lives but we made it work."

"I don't mean socially different places, Thea." He sighs.

"Me either." She says softly. "Roy's struggling with some stuff. Has been for a while, you know, and if you look from the outside it really seems like he's not ready to be in a relationship with anyone, but I make him better." She smiles. "And he makes me better too, even though I'm already in a good place." Oliver pulls over in front of Verdant and Thea puts a hand on his arm. "Don't make excuses not to pursue this thing between the two of you because you're scared it won't work. I see the way you look at each other, Ollie." Thea says softly. "She makes you smile, something I haven't seen you genuinely do for too long."

She gives his arm a squeeze and gets out of the car, leaving Oliver no time to respond and with a lot to think about.

* * *

Felicity woke to some smell coming from her kitchen, but before she could fully appreciate it, she realized that what really woke her was a sharp pain in her head. God, she hasn't been hungover in a while. She remembered then why she never drank anything other than a couple glasses of wine. Okay, maybe a little more than a couple, but definitely not as much as she had last night.

She stood up quickly, getting to the bathroom to take her contacts out so they wouldn't irritate even more her already irritate eyes, all the while cursing herself for not taking them off before bed the night before. Which reminded her,  _how in the name of hell did she get home?_

She remembers tracking Laurel's phone, then Oliver coming home and then… great, yeah, there was definitely some dancing with the DJ at some point or another. Did Oliver drive her home? Yes, he must have.

_Good night, angel._

Did he...? Was that Oliver?

There are about a million things that should worry her concerning the night before, but somehow the thought that glues itself into her mind is whether or not Oliver Queen is a pet name kind of person.

It shouldn't matter, but for the life of her she cannot picture the big bad Starling City vigilante calling his girlfriend  _angel_  or  _baby_. And that's a problem! It's a problem because her stupid mind is playing a trick on her, making her call herself  _his girlfriend_ , which is stupid,  _so stupid_ , even if it's all inside her head.

Maybe she's still drunk.

A knock on her door startles her and brings her out of her thoughts. "Are you up?" Oliver says quietly from outside her door and she freezes.  _What?_

"Oliver?"

"Hey!" He greets her, coming into the room with a smile on his face, completely unfazed by the look of confusion in her face. "I made you Raisa's secret recipe for when I was hungover back in the day. It's probably not as good as hers but it'll help."

"Um, why?" She asks in characteristic bluntness. Oliver's smile falters a little and he has to clear his throat before answering.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't think I've ever seen you set foot in this house, much less to make me breakfast, so, um, why are you here?" She asks awkwardly. "Is something wrong? Where's Dig?"

"Dig's fine." He's quick to assure her, even though it takes him a little longer to answer her first question. "I wanted to check on you. You were pretty drunk last night."

"Oh, God, can we not talk about that? Like, ever?" Felicity groaned. "What time is it? I need coffee. And a shower. Possibly in that order."

"Nop," he tells her, popping the P and Felicity decides this version of Oliver is weird. Not that he usually isn't caring with her, he is, but this Oliver is acting like he left all of the weight he carries on his shoulders by the door, and it kind of freaks her out, not knowing how to deal with him. "Coffee will only make you dehydrated and it'll worsen your headache. So, why don't you go ahead and take that shower and I'll wait for you in the kitchen." He smiles at her, already heading out of her room and closing the door behind him.

_What just happened?_

* * *

Felicity came out of the shower 15 minutes or so later, feeling slightly better than she was when she woke up. The headache she had wasn't gone, but at least now she felt like she could move without having to look for a surface in which it would be less horrible for her to puke in.

"Eggs stewed in a spicy herb tomato sauce with grilled bread." Oliver smiled at her, putting a plate in front of her while she sat on a stool by the kitchen counter.

"Okay, this is ridiculous." Felicity tells him while he pours some orange juice in a glass for her. "When I'm hungover I stay in bed until noon with three cups of coffee trying to come up with a list of reasons why jumping out of a window and putting me out of my misery isn't a good idea."

Oliver chuckles and sits besides her. "I told you, coffee only makes it worse."

"I'm a genius," Felicity all but groans. "Why didn't I know that? I feel like I should have known that." She takes a bite of her food and, honestly, if this is what rich people eat for breakfast everyday, she might have to reconsider her opinion on people whose only goal in life is to marry rich. For food like this?  _She'd do that too._  "This is too good! I'm in grease heaven, I could kiss you right now." She takes another bite before blood rushes to her cheeks and she sees a smirk crawl it's way to Oliver's lips. "I mean- you know what? This is so good I won't even apologize for that."

"So the only way I get to kiss you is earning it by cooking for you?" Oliver asks her without missing a beat and they both freeze when what he says fully registers with them.

The night before, Oliver told himself he'd get to know her better, pay more attention, just generally be a better friend. And that meant allowing himself to fully be in Felicity's presence. No work or worries or threats. But now, Oliver is reminded of why he chooses to always be in control of himself, even when he's around her.  _Especially_  when he's around her.

"Did you just... flirt with me?" Felicity asks him with wide eyes. Then she laughs. It's a weird, kind of hysterical laugh that makes him cringe, but she can't seem to stop. "That was awful! Even I can do better than that, and I have all the smoothness of a sharp rock." Her laughter comes to an end, and she brings her left hand to rub her head, while continuing to eat with the other. "Ouch, my head hurts."

"Maybe you should take the night off tonight." He tells her, hoping desperately to change the subject.

"Yeah, maybe I will. I don't think the alcohol is out of my system yet, because there's no way that just happened." She takes her last bite before standing up from the stool and putting her plate in the sink.

"Are you going to be okay by yourself?" He asks, suddenly in a hurry to leave. He needs to put some space between them, to figure out why his behaviour towards her changed so drastically when their situation clearly hasn't. Maybe getting to know her isn't a good idea. Maybe it'll make it harder for him not to have non-platonic thoughts about her if they're closer as friends.

"Sure," she answers and he has a feeling she might have sensed his change in mood. "I'll just sleep through the day."

"If you're sure." He smiles at her, squeezing her shoulder when he passes her and heads out.

* * *

She doesn't realize what's happening, at first. Like she told Oliver, Felicity slept through most of the day, only waking up when the sun was about to set. She turned on her TV, hoping to catch up on some show and enjoy the rest of her day off, when she saw her bag and phone on the table at her living room. Oliver must have dropped them off this morning and she hadn't realized it.

Felicity promptly pulled out her phone, not being used to being away from it for so long. She unlocked it, with a frown of confusion in her face.

She had 37 text messages, along with 13 missed calls from Oliver, 4 from Diggle, 3 from unknown numbers and one from her mother.

_One from her mother._

That's what immediately got her worried. Besides special occasions, her mother hardly called. Not because they weren't on speaking terms (which had happened for like, a month, when she was still at MIT), or because she was a bad mother or anything like that. Donna Smoak simply could not stand to talk on the phone. She argues that it's too impersonal. " _You can't look someone in the eyes through the phone, dear,_ " she used to say.

So yeah, if she had a missed call from her mother, something must be pretty wrong.

She decides to call Dig first, knowing that, to talk to her mother, she had to know what she was dealing with, and Oliver was awful at delivering bad news, and let's face it, there's  _no way_  this news are good.

"Hey, Felicity." John answers on the second ring, and the tone of his voice confirms it. Bad news. "Feeling better?"

"Much," she hesitates for a moment before asking, "What's going on? Do you guys need me at the lair? I can be there in fifteen."

"No, um, maybe leaving your apartment is not the best idea right now."

"John?" She can hear some noise in the background, followed by Oliver's voice asking " _is that her?_ "

"I think you should see it for yourself." He tells her. "It's in every gossip blog out there."

Felicity puts her phone on speaker and is already fetching her tablet from her bag, typing quickly. She thought she might have trouble finding it, since she didn't know what she was looking for, but as soon as her eyes landed on the main headline of the most famous gossip blog in Starling City, she knew that was it.

Crap.

**Starling City's most eligible bachelor finally settling down.**

_Is Oliver Queen ready to leave the party scene? Last night, Starling City's hottest castaway was spotted carrying his girlfriend and co-worker Felicity Smoak bridal style out of Verdant, a nightclub owned by his younger sister, Thea Queen._

_A source close to the Queens confided in us that the couple has been inseparable for months now, which makes us wonder how exactly Miss Smoak managed to get the city's biggest playboy in a leash._

But there was more.

_Oh, there was more._

There were pictures, not only from Verdant, but also from various events she had to attend as his assistant in the past months. Each one made to look romantic and intimate. And they must have worked their magic on that, because she knows for a fact that Oliver does not look at her like that.

"I'm five seconds away from having a massive freak out," she tells Dig, already wishing away the headache that she could feel coming back. "Please tell me Oliver already called the PR department of Queen Consolidated and had them deny everything."

"It's kind of not that simple, you know." Oliver's voice comes through the phone and Felicity realizes she's probably on speaker too.

"Yes, it is!" Felicity squeals, "It's super simple, see, you just have to pick up the phone and-"

"Felicity," Oliver always says her name with a purpose. He's always telling her something with just the tone he uses when he says it, and right now, combined with his sigh, his tone tells her she's frustrating the hell out of him. "There are already a bunch of paparazzi surrounding your house, so you have to promise me you won't try to leave without me or Dig there with you."

"I'm not a child, Oliver, I think I can handle leaving the house on my own if I have to." She tells him, annoyed that he thinks he can tell her what to do.

"These people are disrespectful and will do anything to get a reaction out of you, Felicity," Oliver all but groans on the other side of the line. "Anything, I mean it. You have to promise me."

"Fine, whatever, I promise." She agrees, mostly because she wants him to drop it so they can talk about more important issues they have at the moment.

"And about the story… well, I don't think we should try to kill it." Oliver tells her and the line goes dead silent for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," Felicity clears her throat, readying herself to get worked up. "For a moment there I thought you said we shouldn't deny anything," she forces out a fake laugh, "my mistake, right? You can't have possibly said anything like that."

Felicity can her Diggle say " _I told you she wouldn't take it well,_ " in the background but Oliver simply ignores him. "From experience? It's better to let them think whatever they want to and not acknowledge it. That way they'll just get bored and move on to the next story."

"No! No, no, no, no, I'm not okay with letting everyone think we're sleeping together!" Oliver's being so extremely frustrating she has to use her loud voice on him. "Do you even realize how ridiculous that sounds? I can't think of a universe in which this,  _us_  could happen. I'm so not your type, don't they know that? They should, I mean, your sex life has been pretty out there since, like, forever. They should know you have a pattern. Tall, leggy, gorgeous and, you know, not me!" She laughs nervously and Oliver takes pity on her, apparently, because he cuts her off.

"I'm not a fan of the idea either, Felicity, but if we deny it, they'll just follow us around all the time trying to get proof that we actually are together."

"Which they will not find, so we should be good!" Felicity retorts immediately

"I know this is not really my place to say," Dig starts to say, and Felicity feels guilty that she kind of forgot he was on the line too. "But the last thing the two of you need is someone following you around 24/7. Eventually, someone will find out about our nightly activities, and a bunch of gossip sites saying you two are having sex will feel like a piece of cake in comparison. "

"Diggle's right. We can't afford to have all that extra attention." Oliver sighs.

"Well, if you look outside my window right now you will realize we  _already_  have all that extra attention, Oliver." Felicity argues, but she knows it's futile. They're both right, they can't risk it. She sighs loudly. "But fine. Keep quiet, got it."

The line goes quiet for a moment and Oliver breaks the silence with a soft voice. For some reason, she doesn't think Diggle is taking part in this conversation anymore. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just dandy!"

"I'm sorry about this," Oliver tells her, and she can just imagine the frown on his face when he says it. "I should have known not to do that in public. This is my fault."

"Oliver, it's not your fault." Felicity smiles sadly because of course he's blaming himself. "You were just being a good friend and keeping my drunk ass from embarrassing myself any further."

"How's your head?" Oliver changes the subject, but Felicity swears she can hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

"It's better," She can't help but smile too, momentarily forgetting that this is not how they act with each other. Forgetting that he's closed off and overprotective, not caring, sweet and thoughtful. "Thank you for this morning. And last night too."

"Don't mention it," he shrugs it off, "I just wanted to make sure you were safe and okay."

"Yes, and you didn't have to go out of your way to do that, so I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it."

"Maybe you shouldn't come to the foundry tomorrow either." He suggests, expecting her to say " _no, there's work to do_ " but she agrees.

"As long as you don't do anything out of the ordinary. I can guide you through patrolling from home for one night." She tells him, "but we still have to talk about how we're going to deal with these people as soon as possible. Remember I'm not the only one they'll be following."

"I think I'm pretty good at losing a tail, just ask Diggle." Oliver jokes and  _oh my God, Oliver's making jokes too_.

"Hey, I'm serious!" She laughs and hears him chuckle too. "Be careful."

"I will. And we can talk about it at QC on monday. I'll send a car to pick you up." He tells her, and before she can answer he tells her goodnight and hangs up.

Felicity throws herself on her sofa and scrolls through her contacts, bracing herself for what sure is going to be a hard conversation, one she's not at all thrilled to be having. When she finds the number she's looking for, she calls and presses the phone to her ear. The person answers on the second ring.

"Hey, mom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, multichapter it is, then. Sorry it took me a while, but I was debating on whether or not to continue the story, and when I finally made up my mind, I had a ton of finals and then I was out of town for a week and only got around to writting this now.
> 
> You should know that I don't plan on making this a crazy long fic, mostly because I'm terrible at updating things regularly (you noticed, right? One month for a new chapter?). I can manage for a month or two with weekly updates, but that's as far as I go.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think and thank you very much for the great reviews this story has gotten so far (:


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I shouldn't have promised those weekly updates, lol. I'm a little over the week mark, but I couldn't get this written sooner, which means I'm posting this at 4 in the morning, so any mistakes you find, keep in my that I'm falling asleep over my keyboard.
> 
> Also, this one is a little shorter, but I really wanted it to end where it does, so bear with me (: I'll try to make the next one a little longer to make it up to you.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what you think.

She should have known, really, that when Oliver said "I'll send a car to pick you up," he actually meant Diggle on the Bentley and two other guys the size of Dwayne Johnson on a car following behind them. Which would only bring even more attention to the fact that she was being escorted to work by a freaking  _parade_  and  _oh my God, she will give Oliver an earful for that when she sees him._

"Tell me again why do we need them?" She asks John as she grabs her bag and coat and prepares herself to step outside.

"We don't," John tells her with a smile on his face. "They're here because otherwise Oliver would have come himself, and I know just how much you would appreciate that."

"Oh, I would just love it!" She says sarcastically, glad John was able to convince him not to come. "And so would them." She points to the closed door, referring to all of the people outside.

"You ready to face them?" John asks, concerned, and his worry warms her heart.

"Nope, let's go."

When she steps outside, with John by her side making way through the crowd, her first thought is that she should call in sick and skip work that day. Her second thought is " _thank God Oliver made me promise not to leave by myself."_

Of course, her third thought gets interrupted by all the people shouting her name, asking her to look this or that way.

Then the questions follow.

" _How long have you been dating Oliver Queen?"_

" _How does it feel to be flavor of the week?"_

" _When is the wedding?"_

" _Are you pregnant?"_

She actually trips over her feet at that, and Diggle has to catch her by the arm before she makes a complete fool of herself in front of 48393 cameras.

It's a miracle that they make it to the car, really.

"Hey, are you okay?" Diggle asks as soon as they get in.

"Yes, I, um, can I ask you something?" She asks while she fastens her seatbelt. Diggle answers with a nod and she continues. "Do I look fat?" Felicity blurts and Dig can't help but chuckle. "Seriously, if I do you have to tell me and-"

"Felicity," he interrupts her, "you look great. Don't let them get into your head."

"You're right," she sighs, feeling stupid for letting it get to her. "Oliver warned me about this, I'm being stupid."

"It's not stupid, you'll just have to get used to it."

"Oh, I honestly hope I don't!" She sighs, "in a week or two this thing will blow over." She says, more to herself than to him, thinking about her conversation on the phone with her mother the day before. She can't imagine having to repeat all of that to basically every single person she knows. Although, other people are a lot easier to deal with than her mother with all the " _honey, how could you not tell me you were dating a billionaire? And extremely handsome, too. Did you think I would not approve? A boy that good looking? I would approve of him even if he lived off of breadcrumbs under a bridge."_  Honestly, 45 minutes on the phone and Felicity still didn't know whether or not her mother believed her when she said her and Oliver  _were not, are not, will never be_ a thing.

Felicity didn't even realize they had arrived until Diggle opened the door for her and helped her out of the car. She looked around and was surprised when she saw that the number of paparazzi at QC was considerably lower than the ones in front of her house. Mumbling a " _thank God,_ " she walked into the building.

She really hoped that now that they realized Oliver didn't spend the night at her house, they would leave, or at least, some of them would. She could deal with a couple photographers at her door, she just couldn't deal with 30 of them.

Felicity was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice, at first, the looks and whispers thrown her way.

Her first clue was the silence. Everyday, when she gets at QC, Felicity goes straight to the cafeteria to get some coffee. You know, for someone who drinks so much of the stuff, she should at least be able to make some, but her coffee just tastes terrible.

She only notices it when her mug is half full already. When she turns around everyone in the room tries to busy themselves with something, some chewing on something, others starting small talk with their colleagues to cover up the fact that they were all clearly  _just_  talking about her. It's a very awkward atmosphere, and she wishes the coffee maker would go just a little faster.

Once her mug is full, Felicity is out the door and calling the private elevator to the executive floors. The last thing she hears before the doors close is "Really, he could have done  _so much_  better than  _her_."

* * *

Oliver arrived late at work. Well, later than usual. Apparently, there were a bunch of paparazzi at the manor, and more in front of the company as well. He barely had time to say hello before Felicity was ushering him into the conference room for a meeting with Isabel and some other members of the board.

Felicity took the time to go through the endless list of unread emails on her inbox. There were a couple party invitations that she made a note to tell Oliver about later, but other than that, she ignored and deleted everything. She really hoped this plan of ignoring the rumors until it died down worked. There was only so many emails and phone calls from stupid gossip journalists she could take.

When Oliver reemerged from his meeting, he had that look on his face. The one with the fake smile and the exhausted aura that came with being thrown a bunch of information at once in a boring meeting with boring old people.

She was about to go in and offer a friendly face when Isabel stopped by his desk on her way out. "I'll go straight to the point. I honestly don't care what you do in your private life unless it damages the company, like in this case, Mr. Queen. The paparazzi outside are a real inconvenience. So before any future public displays of affection towards your little girlfriend over there, keep in mind that you are a public figure, and that this company suffers what you suffer."

"Isabel," Oliver sighs, preparing himself for a long argument with the woman. "I don't have to tell you again that my relationship with miss Smoak is not of the romantic kind, those are just rumors that-"

"Oh, I know there's nothing  _romantic_  about your relationship." Isabel interrupts him. "I know you're not ' _settling down'_ and she doesn't ' _keep you on a leash.'_ Not a tight one, at least." The woman has the audacity to smirk at that, throwing Felicity a quick look over her shoulder. The blond can practically  _see_  Oliver's irritation skyrocketing, just by the way he clenched his fists, making his knuckles go white. Felicity would do something if she didn't think coming to his rescue would actually just make it worse. Plus, she had to endure that for over a week already, Oliver should suffer through some of it too. It's his fault after all. "But the press does not," Rochev continues, "nor should they. Settling down, even if it's with your secretary with an appreciation for short skirts, it's actually an improvement from charming playboy, and will even help the company instead of damaging it. Still, having photographers outside our door is not ideal and should be dealt with." She starts to walk out of the office, not giving Oliver time to say anything in response. "Call the PR department, issue a statement, I don't care, just make them go away." After that she's gone.

Felicity was out of her chair and inside Oliver's office in seconds. "How dare she say all of that to you when she knew I was listening?!" She all but throws herself on the chair opposite of him. "I mean, it's disrespectful and humiliating enough when I'm the only one on the receiving end of her comments, but-"

"What do you mean when you're the only one?" Oliver asks, somehow even more irritated than he was before. "Does she usually say those things to  _you_?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, I deal with her on my own way." She shrugs, knowing Oliver would make a bigger deal about this than it actually is. Yes, Isabel is unpleasant, but she doesn't need him to go against the she-devil to defend her wounded pride. That would probably only wound it more. He raises his eyebrows and she rolls her eyes, but explains anyway. "Let's just say her work environment might not be running as smoothly as she'd like lately." She grins. "You know, a printer not working here, some files deleting themselves after she's worked hours on them there, that kind of stuff."

"Felicity, you're remarkable." Oliver tells her, quoting himself from months ago and it brings a smile to her face. "Guess Isabel is not doing the whole what-happens-in-Russia-stays-in-Russia thing, then." Oliver jokes and it surprises her, but doesn't fail to make her chuckle. She doesn't know if this is his way of ending the subject, afraid she'd be upset again, or if he's bringing it up on purpose, in order to apologize again. Anyhow, she takes it as an out.

"Serves you right," she stands up and starts walking back to her table. "Now, I'm thinking about locking her out of the company server for the entire day. Maybe if she behaves, she can have her password back tomorrow."

"Remind me to never cross you, Smoak." Oliver calls, playfully and she grins at him before sitting down.

Time to work.

* * *

"Miss Smoak, your lunch's here."

Felicity looks up from her computer to see a delivery man standing in front of her with bags so full there must be food for at least four people inside them. "Oh, there must be a mistake, I didn't order anything."

"But I did," Oliver said, coming out of his office with a smile. He payed for the food and took the bags, thanking the man. "Are you coming or I'll have to eat all of this food by myself?" He asks her with a little smirk, walking back into his office and setting the bags on the table by the sofa.

"Oh, I didn't realize we had lunch plans today. Where's Dig?" Felicity asks, sitting down on the seat opposite of him and reaching for one of the bags.

"We didn't, but I figured that with all the fuss outside, leaving for restaurant would not be a great idea, so you're stuck with me for lunch." Oliver said, continuing to empty the contents of the bags and setting them on the table. "I ordered for the three of us, but since we were staying in, Dig made plans with Lyla instead."

"They've been back for what? A week? I'd be worried if he'd rather spend time with us than with her." She chuckles. "They're on their honeymoon phase, it's sweet."

"Does it count as a honeymoon phase if they're divorced?" Oliver asks curiously, and for a moment Felicity thinks this conversation is so casually out of character for him that she wants to laugh.

"Of course it does!" Felicity argues. "Did you just order one of everything they had?" She asks, looking over all of the food in front of them, not sure what she should have.

"I didn't know what you would want, so I kind of did."

"You realize we're in shouting distance of each other, right? You could have just asked."

"Well, I thought I'd surprise you." He confessed with a sheepish grin, lowering his look to his food.

"And it was a very nice surprise, thank you" she smiled at him. "I think I'm going with pasta today." They started to eat in a comfortable silence and Felicity was surprised with how at ease he actually seemed to be around her.

Not that he wasn't before. Oliver was a man of very few friends, and she knew that he could never let his guard down unless he was with her and Diggle, but there was always something about him, some part of him that never failed to stay secretive and held back. Not now though. Like back at her house, it seemed like he had left the weight he carries by the door. She wondered if he was going to be like that more often for now on. If it was a conscious change and he was finally accepting that he was back, that he could leave that island behind and go on with his life towards his own happiness.

And maybe, just  _maybe,_ she was wondering if it had anything to do with her.

She snapped out of her thoughts then, realizing she was wading into treacherous waters here.

"Are you still with me?" Oliver asks her and she realizes she missed everything he had just said.

"Hm, sorry. Got lost in here for a moment." She points to her head.

"I was just saying it'll probably be another week before things get back to normal around us, so maybe we should press pause on our  _other_  line of business for a bit."

"Are you sure? You're not usually one to push for a vacation." She comments.

"I'm just hoping this will go away before my mother's trial." He tells her. "Speaking of which, I was, um…" He starts, nervously. "I was wondering if maybe you could come with me?"

"Me?" Felicity asks, surprised. A strange look crosses Oliver's face and she instantly regrets her reaction. "Yeah, of course I'll go." Felicity reaches across the table and squeezes his hand reassuringly.

"No, nevermind, it's a terrible idea."

"Come on, Oliver, if you want Dig and I to be there, we will be. We can deal with the reporters another time." She doesn't notice the quick change in his expression when she mentions Dig coming too and he's thankful for it. Diggle has to be there, as his bodyguard, and Diggle is his friend, yes, but he can't provide the comfort that Felicity's presence would.

"I don't want you to have to go through hearing comments like Isabel's for longer than strictly necessary, Felicity."

"Maybe I won't have to." She says animatedly, and Oliver can already see a plan taking form in her head. "We were worried about denying and spiking their interest even more, right? So, instead of saying we are not together, why don't we  _show_  them that we are not?"

"And how are we supposed to do that? Public break up? That's only going to prove we  _were_  dating."

"No, they just have to see you out with someone else."

"Someone else who, Felicity?" Oliver asks exasperated. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not seeing anyone currently."

"I don't know, just go to a bar a pick someone up. Anyone with long legs and a short skirt will do."

"Felicity," Oliver huffs out her name, annoyed. "I'm not sleeping with some random girl just because."

"Why not? You do it all the time!" She raises her voice a bit, already getting worked up over this. It's the perfect solution.  _Why is he being so difficult?_  "Are the random one night stands reserved solely for women with whom you bond over speaking slavic languages in cold countries? Because I think this is a situation in which you could make an exception."

Oliver's taken aback by her comment, momentarily at a loss for words. A look full of hurt crosses his face, but he masks it, and she can feel the walls she thought were gone coming back up. Apparently, joking about it is fine, but throwing it in his face in an argument is crossing a line. She doesn't disagree, that was uncalled for. "Believe it or not, I'm trying this new thing where I actually learn something from my many mistakes, so I'm sorry, but I won't do it."

"Fine," she sighs and the hard look on Oliver's face softens at the defeated one on hers. "we'll find another way."

"Thank you."

* * *

The first thing Felicity does when she arrives that day is place a phone call.

She has been talking herself into doing it the entire afternoon after her lunch with Oliver. She understood that it was wrong of her to push, specially since he was actually making a point to change, but doing nothing didn't solve their problems. So Felicity made a decision. She would call Jake - cute, tall, sweet Jake from IT who had asked her out countless times while she still worked back in that department, but she never got around to actually accepting his invitations for dinner due to her insane workload. Really, having two jobs left absolutely  _no_ time for a social life.

The benefit Oliver had been invited to - therefore she had to attend as well - was the perfect opportunity for that date to finally happen. It would put a stop in that ridiculous story  _and_  it would be nice to have a plus one for a change. Maybe Jake is exactly what she needs to end her stupid, unreachable expectations concerning Oliver Queen too.

So she dialed the number.

"Hello?" Came Jake's voice from the other side of the line.

"Jake, hey, it's Felicity. Smoak." She says nervously, knowing a ramble was coming up. "We worked together in, um, the IT department at Queen Consolidated and-"

"Felicity," Jake chuckles, cutting her ramble and she couldn't be more thankful. "I know who you are." She can hear the smile on his voice and it makes her relax a little. "To what do I owe the phone call? I thought you had forgotten about us mere mortals now that you're mixing up with the big fish."

"I, um…" Felicity can already feel her resolve fading, so she takes a deep breath and just blurts it out. "There's this benefit thing on wednesday that I have to go to and I was wondering… how do you look in a suit?"

* * *

Wednesday came soon enough. The number of paparazzi in front of Felicity's house had considerably lowered after just a couple of days, but it was still kind of creepy to think that someone (a few someones) was still waiting for her to leave the house, or better yet, to see Oliver coming in.

But tonight she'd put a stop to it.

Jake had gladly accepted her invitation for the benefit and as he came to pick her up she had to admit he looked amazing in a suit.

She got in his car in a hurry, flashes following her the entire way.

Jake hasn't said anything about it, but she could see he wanted to, and she felt like she owned it to him to explain that  _no, she was most definitely not sleeping with her boss_. It took her basically the entire ride over, and when she finished, he just looked at her with an amused look on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, making her realize he didn't actually have a doubt about her asking him out while being with someone else.

When they went inside, she scanned the room looking for Oliver to let him know she was here, but he hasn't arrived yet.  _Shocker!_

That was probably a good thing, though, since Felicity hasn't exactly been completely upfront with him about asking Jake to the gala. Not that she needed permission from him, but it's  _Oliver_  and he's the biggest control freak there is, aside from his sister. What is it with that family?  _Jesus!_  But back to the point: this was not the plan and Oliver would not be happy not to be notified of the change.

Jake rested his hand on the small of her back, snapping her out of her thoughts and Felicity could see a few people throwing looks their way, but Jake didn't seem bothered by that fact, so she let him guide her to the bar to get drinks.

The next half hour was spent talking and drinking deliciously expensive champagne. It was good to talk tech with someone who would actually understand what she was saying, and she found herself enjoying Jake's company a lot.

Maybe this night was going to be a win after all.

But then, of course, Oliver arrived and things just went downhill from there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. I got busy with school, then I got sick and writing had to be on the sidelines for a while. I'm good now, though, so it shouldn't take me that long to post another chapter.
> 
> This is a little longer as promised, and I really hope you enjoy it (: let me know what you think.

The first thing Oliver notices when he comes into the room is her.

It's ridiculous, really, that in a room with over a hundred people, the first thing that catches his attention is this blond woman in a coral dress standing in the back of the room by herself.

He gives himself a moment to take her in. From the braided messy bun on her head to the dark red lipstick on her lips and the high heels on her feet that make her taller than he's used to.

Then an older, bald man snaps him out of his thoughts. "Mr. Queen, good to see you."

"Um, yes," Oliver turns to the man momentarily, before his eyes return to his partner again. "Good to see you too. Excuse me." He can worry about being rude later, apologize. Right now there's something pulling him to her, and he doesn't want to fight it just yet.

When Oliver reaches her, she has her back turned to him. He rests his hand on her lower back and let's her name roll out of his tongue softly, and hearing his voice, surprisingly, startles her, like she was waiting for someone else.

"Oliver!" She forces out his name, making him frown.  _Is there something wrong?_ "I didn't know you had arrived already."

"Already?" He asks amused, "Aren't you the one always grilling me about being late?"

"Yup, that's me." She chuckles, but it sounds fake and Oliver decides that  _yes,_ there's something definitely wrong.

"You look beautiful, by the way." He tells her, making her soften immediately, a shy smile gracing her gorgeous features.

She thanks him, and before he has time to say anything else, a guy appears with a couple of champagne flutes in his hands, stopping besides Felicity and just lingering there. They all stand in silence for a moment, and Oliver is the first one to break it.

"Sorry, can I help you?" He asks the guys, who frowns in confusion and looks from him to Felicity, like he's expecting her to do something.

"Right, um," she takes a deep breath, like she's about to give him some really, really bad news, making him even more confused.  _There really is something wrong then._ "Oliv- I mean, Mr. Queen, this is Jake. He works in the IT department at Queen Consolidated."

"Nice to meet you." He goes to shake the other man's hand, but they're occupied by the champagne flutes. Jake quickly hands one over to Felicity, who accepts it with a silent "thank you," and shakes Oliver's hand. Still confused, Oliver looks at Felicity expectantly, and she seems even more uncomfortable than before.

"Um, Jake is my date for tonight," she blurts out, and Oliver blanks for a moment because  _her having a date was not part of the plan!_  "I hope that's okay?" It's not really a question, since she doesn't give him any time to answer it. Instead, she does that Felicity thing, where she talks and talks with absolutely no focus on what she's saying. "I mean, I hope it's okay that I brought him here, not the part about me dating. Not that Jake and I are dating or anything, I just meant- I just meant that this is a work thing and I'm here as your assistant and you might need me for assistant related things and I have a date, but I figured you'd want to leave pretty early and we wouldn't be doing much work so–"

"Felicity, breathe." Oliver brings his hand to her elbow and manages to cut off her ramble. Her cheeks are flushed and she has that look on her face in which she seems to want to be absolutely anywhere else but right there. Meanwhile, Jake just looks thoroughly amused, smiling down at the blonde. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" He nods with his head to the side and she drinks the entire contents of her flute in one go, giving the empty flute back to Jake and following Oliver to a more private spot. "A date?"

"Yes. Weren't you paying attention? I just said Jake's my date. I know I talk a lot, but it was in there somewhere."

"And why exactly do you have a date?" Oliver says in a voice that reminds her of the one he usually uses when arrowing bad guys. "I thought we agreed that the being-seen-with-other-people route was out of the question."

"Oh, no, we agreed  _you_  wouldn't do it." Felicity quickly replies, making Oliver sigh. "We never said anything about me. Plus, Jake's really nice and has been asking me out for  _months_  and I couldn't accept because you, mister, overwork me every single night!" She finishes with a note of hysteria in her voice before she groans. "Oh,  _God,_ why do I say things like that?"

Oliver looks at her pointedly and sighs, but before he can say anything, someone approaches him, forcing him to go back into CEO persona, allowing Felicity to avoid the rest of this conversation and go back to her date.

Oliver has to force himself to pay attention to whatever the person's saying instead of his friend slipping away.

_It's going to be a long night._

* * *

Turns out it wasn't just long. It was  _awful_.

Oliver had no idea what was going on, but he was quickly realizing that watching Felicity smiling and flirting – and probably saying inappropriate things without actually meaning to – with someone else was torture.

"People are starting to notice, man." Diggle smirks from behind him when he goes to grab himself a drink.

"What?" Oliver asks confused.

"You, glaring daggers at the poor guy. People are starting to talk, you know."

"She shouldn't have brought him, it brings even more attention than before." Oliver says resigned, downing the contents of his glass in one go and ordering another.

"Actually, the only thing people are paying attention to is the fact that you're clearly jealous of your executive assistant's new boyfriend." John tells him, a smile never leaving his lips. He's too amused with this situation for Oliver's taste.

"He's not her boyfriend." Oliver says promptly, which only makes John smirk. "And I'm not jealous."

"Sure you're not." John pats his shoulder before his expression turns serious. "Don't you go ruining her night, okay? She's doesn't get to stop everything and have fun often, and she seems pretty into this guy." He gives Oliver a pointed look, and Oliver sighs, knowing his friend's right.

Diggle turns to the bartender and orders himself a drink too. "Plus, she'll be pissed and will use her loud voice on you, which I really don't want to witness."

"I won't ruin anything, because I am not jealous," Oliver tells him, taking the glass from his friend's hand and drinking it in one go too. "And you're working." He says, nodding his head towards the now empty glass, then stalks off to to talk to some other boring investor in hopes it'll keep him from thinking about where Jake's hand is in Felicity waist while they dance.

* * *

"So, I've been meaning to ask you this all night…" Jake says with a smile on his face while they continue to dance.

"Yes?"

"Is Oliver Queen able to shoot lasers from his eyes? And if not, why is he trying?" Jake jokes, but to Felicity it's not a joke at all.

"What?" She so mad, but decides to play dumb, because  _what else is she supposed to do?_

"I don't think he likes me." He observes. "Or maybe he just really likes you."

"No, he doesn't!" Felicity says abruptly, regretting it when he takes one of his hands from hers to make a surrendering gesture. "He's just… We're really good friends and he's ridiculously protective."

"So he  _doesn't_  like you?" He asks, and oddly, he still sounds amused.

"I thought we went over this in the car?"

"No, we established you two weren't  _together_  in the car, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be."

"Why are you pushing this?" She asks, knowing there a big chance Oliver's already ruined her date without even trying (too hard), so she stops dancing and pulls him from the ballroom to the bar so they can at least sit while they talk.

"Because even though I'm having a really great time with you, I'm sensing you like him too." He says simply, and when she tries to object he stops her. "It's okay," he says, amused smile still gracing his lips. "I guess this," he motions between the two of them, "just not the right time. You should have taken me up on that dinner invitation  _months_  ago."

She laughs. "I really should have."

"Okay, so, how do you wanna go about it?" He asks her, and she just stares at him confused for a moment. "Making him jealous? How do you wanna go about it?"

"What?" Felicity can't help the note of panic in her voice. "We're not doing that." She glances around the room, looking for Oliver, and finds him talking to a brunette on the other side of the room, drink in hand.  _Weird._  Oliver doesn't usually drink in events like this.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," he winks at her and she smiles because yes, it would be pretty fun to mess with Oliver. "He seems like an easy guy to rattle."

"Trust me, you  _do not_  want to see Oliver Queen's bad side."

"What's the worse that can happen?" He asks her before coming to a conclusion and frowning. "He could fire me. Do you think he'll fire me?"

"Please," she rolls her eyes, "I wouldn't let him. But he's still not a guy you would want to piss off." She tells him, but her resolve is already crumbling because she's sure Oliver won't care,  _but what if he does?_

"I'd say let's take that chance, but it's up to you."

"I'm not even his type, see?" she argues, pointing subtly to the beautiful woman Oliver's taking to, but Jake just laughs it off.

"That's ridiculous. You're gorgeous and he can't take his eyes off of you."

She's trying to talk herself out of doing it, she is, but Jake makes very good and flattering points, it's just too tempting. "What the hell, fine, let's do it." She caves, knowing there's a good chance she'll regret this tomorrow, but then again  _what the hell right?_  "What do you have in mind?"

* * *

The situation changes all of a sudden. At first, Oliver's doing a damn good job of blocking it out,  _blocking them out._  But then they're everywhere. At the bar when he goes grab himself his millionth drink, at the center of the room dancing closely when Oliver has to cross it. Somehow, Oliver even finds them at the balcony when he needs to get some air.

And that moment, really, is when Oliver realizes the night went from bad to absolutely terrible.

He's staying at one end of the balcony, taking some time from the party, Diggle's annoying remarks and the couple's suffocating presence, when he notices them coming to stand on the other end.

They're very close to each other, talking silently about something Oliver can't hear, even though the balcony is a lot quieter than the loud party music and chatter, and significantly smaller.

There's are only four people between them, talking in a circle (or should it be a square? All those drinks are already having an effect on him) and he hopes they're enough of an obstacle for him to slip away without Felicity or Jake seeing him.

He realizes he's too late when Jakes looks up from their conversation, stares right into his eyes for a second, then lowers his face towards Felicity until their lips meet.

Oliver freezes. There goes his chance with her. Not that he was waiting for a chance with Felicity, or hoping for one. Wasn't he the one to say a solid  _no_  before they even got close to that? He was! And he did that for a reason. One that was very hard to remember when her mouth was glued to someone else's. Or when he had had to much to drink. And in this case, both.

 _God,_  he even sounds like Felicity in his head.  _When did that happen?_

He turns away from them, even though they have already parted lips, but he can't tune them out. He hears Jake chuckle, and sees them both smiling from his perimetral vision, which he's not thankful for at all at the moment.

He also can't help but think about how he wouldn't be chuckling right now if he was in Jake's place. Hell, he wouldn't even have come up for air yet.

Deciding enough is enough, Oliver regretfully walks towards the couple, not even having to say a word to get their attention, since they're already turning towards him.

He doesn't bother asking to speak with Felicity privately, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. "If I leave now, will anyone bite my head off at work tomorrow? Namely, Rochev or, you know,  _you_."

Felicity opens her mouth to answer, then suddenly closes it, stepping away from Jake and turning to him. "Are you…" she starts, then frowns, stepping closer to him and putting a hand on his chest while the other lifts up to touch his jaw, angling his face the way she had done many times before, even though it never happened out of the foundry while checking him for injuries. "Are you drunk?"

"What? No." He answers, annoyed, taking a step back. Being this close to her right now is an awful idea for so many reasons.

"Yes, you are, your eyes are glassy."

"I had a drink," he says dismissively, "which doesn't necessarily mean I'm drunk."

She sends him a pointed look, but let's it go, focusing on his question instead. "It should be okay for you to leave, as long as you take Dig and don't go to the club tonight." He scowls at her, but she's not having any of it. "No, no, no, no, no, Verdant business can wait for a time when you're  _not_  intoxicated." He rolls his eyes and turns to leave, but she grabs his arm, keeping him in place. "Promise me."

"Fine, no  _Verdant business_  tonight, got it."

Finally, Oliver turns and leaves in search of Dig. He may have promised not to suit up, but right now he very much feels like breaking one or two training dummies.

"Are you sure you two aren't married already?" Jake asks her after Oliver leaves.

"Pretty sure, yeah." Felicity answers. "I think I'd remember if I ever got married."

"Anyway, now you can admit that my plan was genius and it worked wonders. So, you're welcome." Jake tells her, putting a little bit more space between them now that they weren't putting on a show for Oliver anymore.

"Why? Because he left with his angry face?" She asks. "I'll let you in on a secret… Oliver has angry face like 90% of the time."

"Come on, he was practically  _green_ with jealousy." Jake laughs.

"Well, he's green a lot of the time too, so." Felicity mutters under her breath and Jake laughs again, probably thinking she's referring to him being jealous of her most of the time and not, you know, dressing in green and hunting bad guys.

"Okay, so he coincidentally decided to leave right after we fake-kissed. You're right, that doesn't sound like bullshit at all."

"Shut up." Felicity tells him, but she has a smile on her face. "Do you wanna grab a burger? This party sucks."

* * *

Oliver never fully appreciated the fact that his base of operations was located right under one of the best bars in the city until now.

After leaving the gala, he had Dig drop him off at Verdant, and after agreeing for the seventh time not to go out on patrol by himself, the man left.

Why did anyone think he was drunk anyway? A few drinks does not equal drunk, specially if you used to be a partying playboy as a permanent occupation. He's also part of the Russian mob, and if they think the russians go easy on their drinks, they're very much mistaken.

So no, he's not drunk.

_Yet._

That's why he's sitting on a stool by the bar, in a slow week night, watching as people danced to whatever song the new DJ Thea had hired was playing instead of beating up training dummies like he previously planned on.

He got his wish about an hour or so and many scotches later.

He was so drunk he didn't even notice her coming in his direction until she rested her hand on his arm. "Hello, handsome, can I buy you a drink?" She mocks him, and it takes him a moment to realize it's actually Felicity standing beside him.

She has changed her long coral dress for a pair of skinny jeans and a red turtleneck sweater while brown boots now graced her feet. Somehow she looked even more gorgeous than she did at the gala, and that thought drove Oliver to take another sip before addressing her. "I already own all of these drinks," he motions for the bottles on display on the wall shelves, "didn't you know?" He shout whispers to her, like it's a secret he wants her to know even with the loud music. "I could buy  _you_  a drink though." He sends her his most flirtatious smile, making her laugh and he frowns.

"I admit, I was wrong before.  _Now_ you're drunk." She tells him as she takes a sit beside him and he turns to her.

"Why are you here?" He asks, annoyed that she didn't play along with him.

"Because Dig might have mentioned you didn't go straight to the mansion like we agreed you would."

"No," he sends her his charming smile, the one he used throw at woman all the time back when the club scene was his playground, but it doesn't seem to faze her. "We agreed to no  _Verdant business_  tonight. I'm just getting drunk." He tells her. "So I'll ask again, can I get you a drink?" He lets his hand trail down the length of her arm and a shiver follow his fingers on her skin. She gulps down and he smirks, but she quickly covers up her reaction.

"Promised myself I wouldn't get drunk for another 47 years, and I think it's kind of too early to break that promise already. I should probably wait at least another week, just to be safe." She smiles at him, and he can't help but smile back, genuinely this time. "Plus, we're still dealing with the aftermath of the  _last_  time I got drunk in your club."

"We can get drunk downstairs then."

"How about a raincheck on that idea, and I take you home instead?" She smiles sweetly at him, but he responds with a devilish grin – one Felicity's sure many women have dropped their panties for.

"Felicity Smoak, are you trying to get inside my pants?" He asks her, and his grin widens at the mortified look on her face when she realizes what she said.

"You know what I meant." She rolls her eyes at him, but she's still blushing.

"Yes," he says with a straight face. "You want to take advantage of me."

Felicity laughs, a whole hearted laugh that makes Oliver frown. He's flirting with her, she's not supposed to  _laugh_ , she's supposed to be charmed. "Why are you laughing at me?"

"Sorry, I'm not," she tells him as her laughter dies down with one last chuckle. "It's just– it's weird seeing you like this. Also, you're a terrible flirt when you're drunk." She let's out another chuckle. "Not only drunk, I mean, you could be a bad sober flirt too, but that's very unlikely, if not impossible, considering the amount of women who'd drop to their knees for you on a daily basis." Oliver's frown deepens as she talks, and she can't help but think he resembles a sad puppy right now.

"Where's your boyfriend anyway? Seemed like you two were having loads of fun at the gala." He changes the subject, not enjoying the feeling he got when she said he's not a good flirt and dismissed him so easily. When she just raises an eyebrow, he clarifies. "Josh? No, sorry, Jason."

" _Jake_. And he's not my boyfriend."

"Do you go around kissing people who are not your boyfriend?"

"Being drunk doesn't give you the right to be an ass." She remarks, but doesn't seem too bothered by it, so he assumes he's on the safe side.

"You didn't answer my question."

"We got Big Belly Burgers, he went home, so now I'm on babysitting duties." She tells him, half annoyed and half amused.

"I've always had a thing for Thea's babysitters." He gives her another charming smile, not knowing what he was trying to accomplish with it anymore.

"Of course you did," she chuckles, "that doesn't even surprise me." She easily dismisses his comment and he can't help but wish he was a little bit more sober (or less drunk, same thing) because maybe he'd be able to come up with a line she wouldn't be able to ignore.

Before he can say anything else, though, Thea approaches them, throwing an arm over his shoulder, and one over Felicity's. "Hey, lovebirds," she shout whispers at them, then laughs, letting go of the two and taking a step back.

"What is it, Thea?" Oliver asks her with a scowl on his face.

"I thought you two wanted the rumors about your relationship status to go away as soon as possible?" Felicity tenses and nods, catching on to what Thea meant. "Then maybe you should stop making heart eyes in public, little bro."

"I don't make heart eyes." Oliver's scowl deepens, making Thea laugh again.

"You kind of do," Thea looks at Felicity, who has a sheepish look on her face. Probably because she knows it too, Thea realizes. "Even when you're not crazy drunk like you are right now." Oliver rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his drink and Thea frowns. "I thought you didn't like to drink anymore. What happened?"

"Just had a  _really_  bad night." He rolls his eyes again and Thea smirks.

"And did that have anything to do with the guy Felicity brought with her to the gala thingy?"

The look on Oliver's face is murderous by this point, but Felicity saves him from having to give his sister an answer. "How do you know about that?"

"I have an alert on my phone for all Queen related gossip articles, and apparently, "Oliver Queen's alleged girlfriend going out with some other guy" fits that criteria."

"Great!" Felicity says excitedly, to which Thea raises an eyebrow. "That means they'll stop breathing down our necks, right?"

"Maybe," Thea shrugs, "or maybe they'll just talk about Ollie being cheated on for a change or something, who knows?"

"God, how do you guys deal with this shit your whole lives?" Oliver looks at Felicity in surprise, never having heard her swear before. The invaded privacy must really be getting to her.

"You'll get used to it eventually."

"I won't have to," Felicity stares at Thea with a confused expression, "this will go away in no time." She sends Oliver a look, as if she's expecting him to confirm it for her, but he just takes another sip of his drink.

"Right," Thea smirks, "because you two are not  _actually_  together. I keep forgetting that."

"Don't you have work to do?" Oliver glares at his sister, who just shrugs.

"Slow night."

"Fine, can you spend your slow night over there?" Thea huffs, but says goodbye to Felicity and walks off mumbling something about Oliver being an even bigger pain in the ass when he's drunk.

"You two are the personification of the brother and sister cliche." She tells Oliver, focusing her attention back on his brooding form. "She teases and annoys you while you brood and pretend not to like being around her, and you're like, crazy overprotective." Oliver only rolls his eyes to that, and it annoys the hell out of Felicity that even when he's drunk he can't seem to lighten up. "You know, the whole point of getting drunk is to have fun," she takes the glass from him and pushes it towards the bartender.

"Hey!" Oliver shouts, clearly more upset than he should be over alcohol. "I was drinking that."

"What's gotten into you today? I don't think I've ever seen you drink more than one glass of champagne before."

"Like I said, I had a terrible night." He tells her, frowning, but a smirk downs on his features a second later. "And you won't let me flirt with you to make it better, so really, you're the one who's no fun."

"Feel free to flirt," she replies without missing a beat, "as long as you up your game." She doesn't blush as he expected her to, and it seriously makes him want to do better, to at least know how she'll respond to it. "And don't try to distract me, why was your night that bad?" Her tone is hesitant as she voices her question, wavering slightly. Something tells him she knows what his answer will be, or at least expects him to answer in some way, and Oliver needs a moment to figure out exactly what to say.

"It just was."  _That's what he decides to go with?_  Well, he never really knew how to lie to her anyway.

She doesn't let it slide, though.  _Of course she doesn't._  She just keeps looking at him expectantly, and when it's clear he won't expand on that, she presses. "And was it because of Jake by any chance?" She asks, and seems to instantly regret it. He can see the babble coming before it even begins and he has to fight a grin that threatens to fall on his lips. "I mean, I know you hate surprises, and there's the fact that I was busy all night and couldn't save you from boring conversations with investors, even though I shouldn't really do that anyway, and…"

She trails off, and Oliver ignores everything she just said in favor of something else that crosses his mind. Maybe she wants him to be jealous. She wants him to tell her Jake ruined his night because he stole her attention.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel like sitting at the bar anymore. He wants to go downstairs and take her challenge. He will up his game and do what she wants. He'll make her like him better than that damn IT guy.

He stands, startling her. He loses his balance slightly and she stands up, putting a hand on his arm to steady him. "Wow, I  _am_  drunk."

"No kidding!"

He sends her a look, but it's more playful than stern. "I should go downstairs, sleep it off."

"No way, you're not sleeping in lair." She shakes her head and starts pulling him towards the door. "It's all damp and cold and depressing. I mean, it's better after all the renovations I made, but it's still not living material. I'm driving you home."

"But I don't want to go home. Too much of a deja vu sneaking in late at night. I'm not that guy anymore." He frowns at her, clearly upset, and Felicity thinks it's pretty adorable. "I'm not, am I? You know I'm not."

"No, you aren't," Felicity assures him, squeezing his hand, "but I still won't let you sleep in the lair." They arrive at her car, and she climbs in the driver's seat while he rounds the car, taking the passenger seat. "You can crash at my place and I can keep an eye on you." She says casually,  _too_ casually, like him sleeping at her place is a totally normal occurrence.

A grin takes over his lips and he has to tease her. "Got me to go home with you after all, huh?"

She breathes out an exasperated huff, but he sees her blush anyway, and his grin widens. "You still need to work on the whole flirting thing."

"Oh, I most definitely will."

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I may turn this into a multichapter fic later, but I don't know. (:


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